She was out of breath now, and had to pause. She would gladly have kept
on indefinitely, for the sake of avoiding another of those dreadful
silences.
Bressant was not in the habit of paying much attention to coincidences,
but it happened to occur to him that the stoppage of the watch must have
taken place pretty nearly, if not exactly, at the time of his engagement
to Sophie, and the thought rendered his discomposure still more painful.
"Won't you keep the watch?" said he at length.
"Keep it?" repeated Cornelia, timidly, uncertain what might be coming
nest. Her breath went and came unevenly. "How can I keep it?" faltered
she. "They know--papa and Sophie know--that I haven't any such watch.
I--I have no right to keep it."
She could hardly have spoken more plainly; indeed, she had been
surprised into speaking much more plainly than she intended. The moment
after her pride rebuked her, and made her cheeks burn with shame; and a
feeling of anger at having so betrayed herself put a sparkle into her
eyes. Bressant, looking at her, was stricken by the angry glow of her
beauty. It began to dazzle his reason, and bind his will. Their eyes met
fully for a moment; a world of fatal significance can sometimes be
conveyed by a glance. The extremity of his danger perhaps aroused the
young man to a realization of it. He stood up, and pressed one hand over
his eyes.
"If you've no right to keep the watch, I've no right to give it you, I
suppose," said he, sullenly.
"I owe you an apology, certainly, Mr. Bressant," exclaimed Cornelia,
interrupting what more he might have been going to say. She was tingling
to her fingertips with the intolerable anger of a woman who finds
herself rejected and befooled. "Really, I am surprised at myself for
persecuting you so relentlessly. Not satisfied with depriving you of
your timepiece for two whole months, I actually am unable to surrender
my--my ill-gotten booty without giving you an uncomfortable feeling that
I want to task your beneficence further yet. Well, I've not a word to
say for myself. I had no grudge to pay. I'm sure your conduct to me has
always been--most unexceptionably polite! The most charitable
explanation is, that I was crazy. I hope you'll consent to accept it;
and I do assure you that I'm perfectly sane now, and mean to keep so.
You needn't," she continued laughing, "you really needn't be afraid of
my persecutions any longer. I'm going to be as circumspect as--as you
are. Now, good-by for the present." She held out her hand with an air of
formal courtesy. "I promised Sophie I'd be back directly. I'll see you
at dinner, I suppose?"
As she came to the good-by, Cornelia had risen from her seat; by the
action the remaining petals of the tea-rose had been shaken off, leaving
the nucleus bare and unprotected. Bressant's eyes fastened idly upon it,
but he said nothing, and did not move, Cornelia withdrew her unaccepted
hand, smiled, and, turning about, walked up the path to the house with
an easy and dignified grace, which was not so much natural as the
inspired result of passion.